


We Will Rock You

by peace_love_happiness



Series: Crowley's Bentley is the ultimate matchmaker [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Crowley's Bentley, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Queen - Freeform, The Bentley Ships It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 11:32:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19272418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peace_love_happiness/pseuds/peace_love_happiness
Summary: The funny thing was, before the curse of the Bentley, Crowley quite liked Queen. Sure, they weren’t close to his favorite band, but there was no denying that their songs were catchy.(Or Crowley’s slow descent into madness as all his tapes turn into Queen.)





	We Will Rock You

The funny thing was, before it all began, Crowley quite liked Queen. Sure, they weren’t close to his favorite band (he much preferred slower rock, like Velvet Underground), but there was no denying that their songs were catchy, if the lyrics a bit shallow. Yes, Crowley had no problem whatsoever with Queen. Most of the time. That was actually what he was listening to as he dropped Aziraphale off after a  date business meeting at St. James Park. 

“Do you want to maybe have lunch at the Ritz tomorrow?” he asked Aziraphale as he got out of the car.

Aziraphale gave a small smile, one a mixture of pity with maybe a bit of regret. “I’m sorry, Crowley. Maybe some other time.”

“Right.” Crowley tried his best not to show his disappointment. “See you later, angel.”

“Bye,” said Aziraphale, giving a cute little wave goodbye.

He walked into his bookshop and Crowley sped off, sighing. Two decades later and still too fast. He’ll have to wait another two millennium before Aziraphale became his… Whatever. Specifics didn’t matter, no. 

With no one else around to distract him, Queen stopped being background noise and he was unfortunately able to actually comprehend the lyrics. 

_ “Dining at the Ritz we’ll meet at nine-” _

Crowley slammed the eject button on the cassette player and he threw it in the backseat. Nope, too on point. Enough of that. He didn’t need that song right now. No. Some Velvet Underground was what he needed. He popped in a tape of their third album (creatively called The Velvet Underground), and-

“ _ Can anyone find me somebody to love? _ ”

… What? Well, first, fuck that song right now. No. Crowley had somebody to love, just no one to love him back. But… Crowley popped out the tape. The Velvet Underground by Velvet Underground. He put it back in and pressed play again.

“ _ Everyday (everyday) I try and I try and I try _

_ But everybody wants to put me down. _ ”

No. More Queen. What was going on? Did it accidentally get taped over somehow? Oh, whatever. Maybe he’ll just listen to the radio. He turned it on.

“ _ We will, we will, rock you! _ ”

Well, all right. It was a popular song by a popular group. Surely just a coincidence. He switched to one that played older music from the 60s.

“ _ We are the champions, my friends.” _

Crowley banged on the radio. “Shut up!” Okay, no music. For some reason Queen was following him around tonight. He’ll just listen to a sports broadcast or something. SUre, it wasn’t too exciting, but he just needed some white noise at the moment.

_ “I'm in love with my car, gotta feel for my automobile” _

Right at that very moment, for the first time ever, Crowley hated his fucking car. 

  


* * *

  


If Crowley couldn’t listen to his music in the car for whatever reason, he would do it in his house. He took the Beatles tape for Sg. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band inside and popped it into his cassette player. 

_ “Now I'm here (now I'm here) _

_ Think I'll stay around, around, around, around.” _

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong. 

  


* * *

  


So he went to the only person in the universe he could count on to help him. “Angel!” he said, storming into Aziraphale’s bookshop.

“What’s the matter, Crowley?” asked Aziraphale, peeking around a bookshelf. “We just saw each other yesterday.”

“Yeah, well, maybe sometimes I want to see you two days in a row.” Aziraphale opened his mouth. Crowley interrupted him before any rejections could begin.“Never mind that right now. This is an emergency, Aziraphale. What does this tape say?” he asked, giving one to Aziraphale. 

“What? … Beggars Banquet by the Rolling Stones? Aren’t they that one bebop group you like?”

“No, it’s not bebop. It’s called ‘rock.” Despite Crowley’s best efforts, Aziraphale’s knowledge of music in the 20th century was limited to a few 1920s jazz musicians and the entire discography of Vera Lynn. “Where’s that Walkman I got you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I never used it. Having the music blast right into your ears is a bit loud. Don’t you think?”

“They’re supposed to be like that. Young people will turn up the noise too loud and it’ll lead to early onset deafness. It’s a great long con.” Aziraphale frowned at that. “Oh, that doesn’t matter. I need it now. Where’d you put it?”

“It should be in a drawer in the backroom.”

Crowley headed towards the back. “Which drawer? This place is a mess.” One time Aziraphale had asked Crowley to fetch a book from the backroom and there were scrolls from Mesopotamia right by ten cent pulp fiction magazines from the 30s. 

“Oh, let me look,” said Aziraphale, following him to the backroom. “Are you sure this is an emergency?”

“It’s an emergency to me,” said Crowley. 

Aziraphale rifled through some drawers and found the Walkman, handing it to him. Crowley put the tape in, put on the headphones, and pressed play. 

“ _ Don’t stop me now, I’m having such a real good time.”  _

“Damn it!” he shouted.

“What’s wrong, Crowley?” asked Aziraphale, brow furrowed in concern. Maybe Crowley was just hallucinating all the Queen. It was worth a try. He handed the Walkman to Aziraphale. 

“What song is this? Tell me what you hear?”

Aziraphale put on the headphones. “Oh dear, this is quite loud.”

“Just tell me the lyrics, what’s he singing?”

Aziraphale frowned. “... I am a sex machine ready to reload? What is this song?”

Crowley took the headphones off of Aziraphale’s head and took the tape out of the Walkman. “That’s enough. I’m not going crazy.”

“What’s going on?” asked Aziraphale. 

“Don’t Stop Me Now isn’t a Rolling Stones song,” explained Crowley. “Rolling Stones songs are a bit more… Subdued. Don’t Stop Me Now is a Queen song. All of my tapes have turned into Queen. And not even their whole discography. All the tapes just play the same twenty or so songs, like some sort of… Greatest hits track. The Who, The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, all replaced with the voice of Freddie Mercury!”

“Oh dear. Could you have taped over them accidentally?” asked Aziraphale.

“You don’t just tape over twenty tapes accidentally! No, something weird is going on here.”

“All right, calm down, dear. Have you tried buying new tapes?” suggested Aziraphale.

New tapes, yes. Aziraphale was a genius. It was probably just some electromagnetic freak even that caused all of his tapes to turn into Queen. (Crowley wasn’t too sure what electromagnetic went, but it sounded impressive, so he went with it.) “That might work.” He could burn all his old tapes and start the collection over. Maybe move out of the 60s and more into the 70s. He could use some Pink Floyd.   

* * *

  


At first, things were fine. The psychedelic rock of Pink Floyd filled the Bentley. No cheesy songs about love or whatever the hell was going on with Bohemian Rhapsody, no. Real music. Everything was fine, it was just some sort of freak accident. 

However, as the week went on, the music got more and more upbeat, the voice changed, and Syd Barrett had transformed into Freddie Mercury. The tape was infected with Queen. 

  


* * *

  


“You don’t think the Bentley could’ve gained feelings, could it?” asked Aziraphale. Crowley had managed to talk him into taking a ride with him in the Bentley, so the angel could observe the problem up close. Crazy Little Thing Called Love was playing, because the world hated him.

“Gained feelings?”

“Like your plants, you know. Plants aren’t supposed to be terrified, but yet yours are all the time. Some of our magic wears off on them and they gain feelings. I think my bookshop has some.”

“I’ve spent so much time in my Bentley it’s gained feelings and the ability to replace all music with Queen,” said Crowley slowly.

“Perhaps. It’s a theory at least,” said Aziraphale. 

“Aziraphale, even if my Bentley had feelings, why would it torture me with Queen? I’ve kept in in tip-top shape since 1924.”

“You do drive it very fast, dear.” Aziraphale nodded. “Yes, that has to be it. You scare it so much it’s now deciding to retaliate. ”

“I don’t drive too fast.”

“Currently you’re driving 50 miles over the speed limit,” said Aziraphale, looking at the speedometer.  

“My Bentley is not playing nothing but Queen because I’m driving too fast, okay? That makes no sense. Why would it pick Queen, of all things? They have songs about going fast, songs about racing. Wouldn’t it pick another group?”

“Why is it such a problem, anyway? You like the band, don’t you? I’m pretty sure you’ve listened to them in here before, right?”

_ “This thing called love, I just can't handle it _

_ This thing called love, I must get round to it _

_ I ain't ready _

_ Ooh ooh ooh ooh.” _

Aziraphale tilted his head at the lyrics. “I mean, the words to the songs are very… Powerful.”

“There’s a difference between listening to a music group once every few weeks, and listening to absolutely nothing but their top twenty songs. Imagine if you could listen to nothing but Beethoven for the rest of your life.”

Aziraphale briefly considered that. “Oh, that would get old quite quick, wouldn’t it? You could try changing the cassette player. Maybe the Bentley’s only affected this one.”

That was a brilliant idea. “I’ll give it a try, but I’m not sure if it’ll work.”

  


* * *

  


Crowley decided instead of just replacing his cassette player with another cassette player, he would replace it with one of those new CD players. The majority of his tape collection was ruined so he would have to buy new ones anyway, and supposedly CDs were harder to record over. You needed a computer or something to copy over them. The Bentley was a car from 1924. Computers hardly invented when it was made. There was no way it could replace it with Queen. 

Crowley popped in a David Bowie CD. Starman started to play and he sang along with joy.

Then the beats got stronger every song and slowly they turned into Under Pressure on a loop. The good news was that it was a Bowie song. The bad news was that it was a collaboration between Queen and Bowie that wasn’t on the album he put in. 

“Now you’re just teasing me!” He hit the disc player out of frustration and pulled over to the side.“Why are you doing this, huh? What could you possibly gain?

The song switched. 

_ “ _ _ How it hurts (yeah) deep inside (oh yeah) _

_ When your love has cut you down to size _

_ Life is tough on your own _

_ Now I'm waiting for something to fall from the skies _

_ I'm waiting for love.” _

“Enough with the love songs!” shouted Crowley. “You were there years ago, you heard Aziraphale. Too fast. I don’t want to scare him off, you know?  The Bentley switched to singing, “ _ find me somebody to love _ ” over and over. “Can you just stop, please? I want to listen to my music again. I really am making an effort with Aziraphale, but there’s nothing I can do about that, I don’t want to scare you away. I’ll go slower, I’ll give you a paint job, anything you want, just tell me.”

The Bentley switched songs again.

“ _ My game of love has just begun _

_ Love runs from my head down to my toes. _ ”

Crowley screamed. 

   


* * *

  


“You could always just get a new car,” offered Aziraphale.

“No. Pour me another glass, will you?” Crowley held up his wine glass and Aziraphale poured him some more Chardonnay. “Bentley’s the only car I’ve ever owned. I can’t just replace her like that.” He had too many good memories in that car. Driving Aziraphale to the park, driving Aziraphale home from the park, basically just driving Aziraphale places, but that was enough if you asked him.

“I’m sorry, Crowley.” And sweet Aziraphale really did seem to be concerned about his frivolous problem. “You can always keep your tapes here and listen to them when you visit, he offered.”

“You’ll be fine with me being here for more than one day in a row?” Crowley looked at the angel through his sunglasses, dreading the answer.

Aziraphale hesitated, thinking about it. "Well, maybe not that much. Maybe every other day to start out with, and we can see from there."

Well, that was a start, at the very least. "Sure angel, sounds great."  

  


* * *

  


As he drove off in the Bentley that night, Queen played, of course.. 

“ _ You're my sunshine and I want you to know _

_ That my feelings are true _

_ I really love you _

_ Oh, you're my best friend. _ ”

Finally, a song Crowley could get behind. Aziraphale was his best friend. Sure, the angel was only willing to admit he liked him on a very good day, but he knew that deep down inside, Aziraphale had to consider him one. After all, he had gotten him holy water. That showed a level of trust. Yeah, he could love Aziraphale that way.  

At least it wasn’t U2 or Asia or something like that. Besides, it couldn’t possibly last forever. In a year or so, surely the Bentley will get bored and pick another trendy music group, right? Yes, there was no way he was stuck with Freddie for the rest of time. 

Right?

**Author's Note:**

> So for those of you who don’t know, in the book it’s revealed the reason Crowley seems to listen to nothing but Queen is because somehow the Bentley turns every tape into a Best of Queen album, so he has no choice but to listen to all those songs about love and struggle.
> 
> I would like to use this opportunity to thank Good Omens for using Queen so I can no longer listen to one of their songs without thinking about angels and demons who are in love. By the way, It’s A Hard Life isn’t on Wikipedia’s list of Queen’s greatest hits, but it’s on my list and this is my fan fiction.
> 
> I may or may not write a sequel chapter to this post-Apocowasn’t. 
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://peace-love-happiness.tumblr.com/) if you want. Feel free to shout to me about Good Omens.


End file.
